


A Cure for Hiccoughs

by ArielSakura



Series: Exasperated Harry One Shots [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Is King, Arthur has no pants, Drunk Harry, Gen, Humor, Merlin is a Little Shit, Poor Harry, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 17:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12040341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielSakura/pseuds/ArielSakura
Summary: Draco should really know better by now not to read strange incantations he finds written on things in the House of Black. This time Ron gets to come too and Harry has the hiccoughs.





	A Cure for Hiccoughs

**Author's Note:**

> Oh the weird and wonderful things that pop into my head, hope it makes you laugh/smile. :D

Harry was sitting in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place with Ron, they had managed to procure a boys weekend without Hermione, as she was attending a conference in France about the Regulation and Bylaws of Supplementation of the Distribution of Magical Information and Arts or something or other, to be honest neither of them had really paid much attention to what she had said other than that she would be (literally) out of the country for two nights.

They were currently three quarters of the way through a bottle of fire whiskey and were trying see who could make the best smoke shapes. Ron was currently in the lead with a rather life like miniature dragon. “Charlie taught me how!” he said proudly as he watched the little smoke creature prance about the room.

“Yeah, but not very well,” Harry hiccoughed, “look you’ve (hic) messed up his tail.”

Ron flapped his hand, “nah it’s supposed to be like that.”

Harry looked at him bemusedly from behind semi-crooked glasses, “I haven’t (hic) heard of a short-tailed (hic) variety, there’s the Swedish short-(hic) _snout_ but that’s its nose.”

Ron shrugged and took another swig from the bottle as Draco wandered into the room, “look at you two, as soon as Granger goes away you to lose all sense of propriety.”

“Ah come on, Malfoy, settle down and have a drink with us,” Ron said holding out the bottle to Harry’s cousin.

Draco looked at the bottle in distaste, “I think I prefer Odgen’s thank you.” He replied as he summoned a bottle and tumbler as he took a seat.

“Better catch up, (hic) Dray,” Harry said, “we’re waaaaaaay ahead of you.”

“I can tell,” Draco said archly, “you’re already pissed.”

“Am not!” Harry cried, “I’ve just got the (hic) (hic) blasted hic-hiccoughs!”

Draco remained silent as he sipped on his Odgens, Ron offered the firewhiskey to Harry who promptly took a swig and coughed up smoke. He looked over at Draco to see if he had seen Harry’s faux par but the blonde was peering interestedly at the bottle of Ogdens. “What is it Dray? (hic) Not the right vintage?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “vintage is for _wine_ Harry, no, it’s just, this certainly isn’t Ogdens, even if it has the label and there’s just a strange lettering on this bottle. I think its druid or something similar.”

“Well for Merlins sake don’t (hic) read it, I don’t want another one of your (hic) mishaps tonight thank you very (hic) much,” Harry nodded drunkenly decisive as he took another swig from the bottle.

“Oh, go on then!” Ron said excitedly, “it’ll be fun, I haven’t had a good adventure for ages!”

Harry glared at his best mate, “it’s not as (hic) fun as you seem to think it is, Ron! Besides, I’d have thought you’d get plenty of excitement at the (hic) joke shop?”

Ron waved him off, “pssssh, it’s not the same, it’s all jump scare you know? Nothing like getting your heart beating from a good run.”

“Then take up (hic) jogging,” Harry sniped, “it’s (hic) healthier.”

“I think I’ve got it!” Draco said excited whilst Harry was mid-swig, “it says, ‘gabh mi chun an tè a tha sinn a 'cumail àrd.”

Harry didn’t even have time to pull the bottle from his lips as the world warped around them and they were deposited in another time entirely.

 

* * *

 

Harry appeared in an opulent bedroom in the exact same position that he had been when he’d been at Grimmauld Place, which is to say in a seated position. But without the chair he fell on to his bum and spilt a decent amount of firewhiskey over himself. Sputtering and wiping his stinging eyes and face he repositioned his glasses and saw that Ron and Draco had shared much the same fate. “Oh for Merlin’s _sake_ Draco! Where the bloody hell are we now?” He cried.

Ron was looking around the room in interest as Draco stood and brushed his clothes smooth. All at once they noticed a skinny young man looking at them all aghast. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“Er, bit hard to explain sorry mate,” Harry told the man.

“Never mind, just get out, get out, get out. Hurry.”

Harry stumbled to his feet and hauled Ron to his, ”er why’s that? Where are we?” he asked.

“ _When_ are we, might be the better question Harry,” said Ron as he ran a critical eye over everything.

“I agree with Weasley,” chimed in Draco.

The young man was looking at them bewildered when suddenly another man came around the corner, wearing only a tunic shirt, “Merlin, what are you doing? Where are the rest of my clothes and… who are these people?” He said angrily as he took in the sudden appearance of the three strangers.

“Ah, cleaners!” cried Merlin, “they are here to clean, came a bit early though, they thought your rooms would be empty by now.”

“Well, they would be empty if you were competent enough to get me my pants,” retorted the blonde man. He squinted at the trio, “are you sure they’re cleaners? That one looks drunk,” he said pointing at Harry.

“Oi! I’m not (hic) drunk! I just have the hiccoughs!” Harry replied.

The blonde man’s eyebrows rose, and the other man made shushing motions behind him as he strode forward. “Do you know who you’re addressing?” he demanded.

“Do you?” retorted Harry, he’d always hated bigotry.

The man looked startled at the retort and looked back at the one he had called Merlin, who spoke up. “You’re addressing King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot.”

Harry and Draco went slack-jawed, whilst Ron swore loudly, “Merlin’s beard!”

Now it was Arthur and Merlin who looked confused, Arthur looked back at his companion and said in confused aggravation, “you don’t have a beard.” Merlin just shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands to show he didn’t know what they were talking about.

The trio were exchanging glances of shock and wonderment and Harry’s hiccoughs had finally subsided. “You mean you’re really? You’re not yanking my wand? And then that means..” Draco said, and they all looked at Merlin with awe in their eyes and on their faces. Harry’s bottle of firewhiskey slipped from his grasp to shatter at his feet.

Arthur looked confused, “why are they looking at you like that? What’s going on?”

“In the name of Merlin’s most saggy y fronts…” Harry breathed, to which he then giggled, “oh _Merlin,_ ” to which he laughed harder, tears starting to stream from his eyes. Draco lips twitched and Ron held back a chuckle.

Suddenly there was a sword at Harry’s throat, “Who are you? How did you get in here?” Arthur commanded, a hard look on his face.

“Er, Malfoy? Can you turn that bottle over now?” Ron said as the sword point rested on Harry’s adam’s apple.

Draco hurriedly turned the bottle over to see if there was another incantation, “yes there is!” as if that was the cue they all spun towards the door and rushed out of it, slamming it behind them, they rounded a corner and Draco huffed out the spell. “Gluais mi tro thìde, air ais dhachaigh,” he said and the corridor swirled around them again.

 

* * *

 

“Where did they go?” demanded Arthur angrily.

“I don’t know sire,” replied Merlin, secretly glad that whoever they were hadn’t exposed their magic to Arthur.

Arhtur huffed, “it’s your fault we lost them.”

“My fault?” asked Merlin incredulous, “how is it my fault?”

“If I’d been fully dressed when they arrived I could have followed after them right away! Instead I had to wait for you to get my clothes. And now they’re probably long gone.” Arthur reasoned as they stalked through the halls.

“Yes, well, if I hadn’t been so busy trying to put another hole in your belt, you would have had your pants on earlier,” Merlin muttered.

Arthur came to an abrupt halt, “what was that?”

“What was what?” Merlin asked innocently.

“Did you just call me fat?” asked Arthur.

“No, of course not, Sire,” replied Merlin pretending shock.

Arthur gave him a considering look, “good, because I’m not fat.”

“As you say, Sire,” Merlin said cheekily as the started walking again.

“Merlin?”

“Yes, Sire?”

“Shut up.”

 

* * *

 

Harry, Ron and Draco stumbled into the sitting room at Grimmauld, took one look at each other and started laughing. “I can’t believe we met King Arthur and Merlin!” cried Harry.

“I know how amazing was that?” agreed Ron.

“and Arthur wasn’t wearing pants!” Draco sniggered.

Using the rest of the bottle of not Ogdens they quieted their nerves and eventually stopped spontaneously laughing. They were sitting quietly when Ron spoke, “Mione’s never going to believe this,” he said.

Draco who had the bottle held it up, “well that’s okay because we have proof! We can take her back, maybe next time we’ll meet Queen Guinevere or Morgana!”

Harry quickly summoned the bottle from Draco, “oh no! no, no, no. I got held at sword point! King Arthur nearly beheaded me! Kreacher!”

The house-elf popped up beside Harry, “Kreacher, I want you to hide this somewhere we can’t find it okay?”

“Yes Master Harry,” Kreacher said taking the bottle and disappearing.

“Harry….” Draco whined.

“Nope, it’s too dangerous,” Harry replied, “I don’t want to responsible for messing up the wizarding world as we know it, do you?”

“That’s not what I was complaining about, you made Kreacher hide the rest of the scotch you git!” Draco said.

“Oh,” said Harry just realising this, “KREACHER!!”

  

* * *

 

 

 

Google Translate gave me these, I apologise if it's not correct:

gabh mi chun an tè a tha sinn a 'cumail àrd – take me to the one we hold on high

Gluais mi tro thìde, air ais dhachaigh – move me through time, take me home

**Author's Note:**

> (If you can think of any tags I should add, it would be appreciated) kudos and comments are love!   
> Ariel
> 
> xx


End file.
